


Pillar of the Gods

by Zumberge



Category: Original Work
Genre: Belly Expansion, Breast Expansion, Butt Expansion, F/F, Fusion, Gen, Masturbation, Merging, Mindfuck, MiniGTS, Other, Stuffing, Transformation, Weight Gain, ssbbw
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-01-18
Updated: 2021-03-03
Packaged: 2021-03-16 23:14:20
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 8,564
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28839096
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Zumberge/pseuds/Zumberge
Summary: Inanna's tribe had lived in the shadow of a structure built by the gods to hold up the heavens.  In a search to learn the fate of the gods, she finds herself inside of it, and discovers the caretakers of her world wish to know the answer as well.(Honestly I just wanted to try writing something vaguely porny where two characters are smushed into a single amalgam of themselves.)
Comments: 1
Kudos: 9





	1. Chapter 1

Inanna ran her hands across the layered strips of wood, sewn together at the ends with string. There were markings across them, pretty and familiar, but so numerous that she couldn't begin to count them - more than twenty, at least. "What are these?" she asked, her voice filled with a young child's awe at the world around her.

"Those are books," her aunt replied with a smile. Wrinkles creased her face. "I copied some of them myself when the the old ones started to fall apart." She gestured to the shelves in the hut. "All of these are our history. Our families, the tales of the gods..."

She turned back to the book in her hands, trying to figure out which markings were the ones that her mother told her at bedtime. "The stories about the gods are on these? How do I...?" There might have been more stories on them that her mother hadn't found yet, if only Inanna knew how to find them herself. "How?"

"You need to learn to read first."

"Oh." Her aunt made it sound easy. It probably was. "Can you teach me?"

She gave Inanna a polite nod. "Of course."

*****

It was a fiery streak across the night sky, nothing that anyone in the village had ever seen or heard of happening. The commotion had woken Inanna, and she watched in awe with the others as it descended. It came close enough to the village that it passed in front of the Pillar, its reddish outline and tail contrasting against the irregular angles and matte black of the massive structure. As it hit the ground there was the flash of fire, the thump of its impact rolling in a split-second later.

She broke into a run, long black hair trailing behind her, pausing only briefly at the edge of the village to tear a lantern-plant fruit from its stem. Two other village youths followed after the retreating white gown and pale blue luminescence, more to keep her safe than any interest in what fell. "Wait!" one of them called out.

Inanna slowed her pace, looking behind her just long enough to see where they were, running ahead again when they drew close. "What do you think it is?" she asked excitedly. "Maybe they're still fighting up there!" She vaulted a high root. "Or they stopped and they're finally rebuilding!"

"Maybe we should turn back," he said. "The adults should handle this."

"I -am- an adult; I'm nineteen. Besides, if it's something they need to take care of, we just go back and tell them."

When the first went silent, other stepped in. "It's best if we let them do that now. What if it's one of their weapons?"

Inanna's slate-grey eyes lit up. "What if it -is?-" She glanced back at them, beaming, before dodging a low branch. "A spear made by the gods!"

"You don't know what sort of power it has."

"I don't want to -use- it, I just want to see it."

Their options exhausted, the duo had little recourse but to follow Inanna in silence. As she tired she slowed, but didn't stop, eventually emerging into a sparsely-wooded area some minutes later. Ahead of her there was a wide, shallow crater, ringed and dotted with splintered trunks and burning branches, with a dark, narrow shard half her height standing in the middle. As she neared she circled to the side for a better view, the dark and nonreflective front giving way to a to a rougher back, with metallic bands overlaid in triangular patterns. The thought came to her that it looked like a scab of some sort, and as she drew closer she suppressed a shiver as the air around her suddenly grew chilly.

Inanna held the lantern-plant aloft, leaning in and studying the patterns for any sort of clue. "What do you think this is?" she wondered aloud. With her free hand she reached out and ran a finger along one of the bands, the material nearly as smooth as the Pillar's surface. As soon as it hit an intersection of bands, however, there was the almost painless bite of a blade across the length of her fingertip. She drew it back, more out of shock than the threat of danger, and watched as a thin strand of blood lay suspended between the object and her finger. The slack on the strand disappeared as it grew taut, and around it flickered small, sharp-edged patterns in unnaturally vivid oranges and reds. They were vaguely translucent, flat and orderly, like paint on tightly-stretched cloth. Then, one by one, they disappeared as the blood seemingly flowed back into the cut.

She brought her hand up to stare at it, bewildered, before there was sudden pressure from behind her eyes. Squeezing them shut, Inanna shook her head as she turned away, now aware of a growing ache across her shoulders. "Did you two see those... uh..." The question of what to compare it to came to the fore, but her thoughts were growing muddled.

"See what?" one asked.

"That..." The lantern-plant slipped from her grasp as she dropped to one knee, the world around her swimming before going dark.

*****

When Inanna's senses returned to her she was on a cot in the medicine hut, a wet cloth placed across her forehead. The apothecary told her the two village youths who went after her brought her back that night, and she had been unconscious for the past four days and delirious for another two with a fever unlike any he had seen before. For a while, he confessed, he doubted that she would even survive. Part of her understood why; while conscious, she was so weak that it took another day or so before she even had the strength to sit up, let alone stay that way for any period of time.

As she took in the room her eyes fell upon a bright green rectangle covered in patterns moving too fast to read or track. It hung in place an inch or so away from the wallwood trees which composed one side of the hut, a decoration flickering in and out of existence. Even when it was in view parts of it were twitchy, horizontal bands of its immaterial form fading in and out in the blink of an eye. "What is that?"

"What is what?" the apothecary asked.

Inanna turned to him to explain where to look only to find that he was staring straight at it, oblivious. A glance back confirmed that it was still there, and she turned to him again to find him studying her curiously. "It might have just been an insect," she lied. "Could I have some books to read?"

The apothecary nodded, pushing aside the hanging cloth at the door and summoning one of the other villagers, and a few minutes later he returned with several volumes of stacked wooden strips in his arms. Inanna watched where he looked, noting that he paid no heed to the luminous shape when his eyes moved across where it would be, and thanked him for his efforts before poring over the tomes, searching for anything she might have missed or forgotten.

One thing caught her attention, old tales now cast in a new light: Daemons. Before they created her people, the gods created caretakers - invisible and immaterial beings that kept the world and all things in it in harmony. While they remained in the heavens, the daemons did their will, though the stories didn't say what happened to them after the war. They must have still been around, she thought, because everything acted the way it should: Linen pods forming sheets of cloth, wallwoods growing at the proper width and height, the sun moving across the sky, and the orchards producing fruit and vegetables regularly. She went on to reason that the patterns and markings she now saw may have been notes left by the daemons in their duties, and that coming in contact with something from the gods let her see them, somehow. It also very nearly killed her, but such was the power of the gods.

Once she recovered she began to take time out of her day to explore and try to locate more of these marks. They were short-lived, most lasting mere minutes and none more than an hour, and while they weren't everywhere at once, even if she went about her day normally without actively seeking them out she still saw a good handful of them. Not least because they stuck out, as many of them were in colors of such an intensity that she wondered if the reason the gods didn't have them appear in the world was because everything would glow so brightly that no one could sleep. Rather strangely, while they were around the fallen object, none were ever -on- it. In stark contrast, the largest and longest-lasting ones were near the Pillar. Which made sense: It held up the sky and thus would require daemons watching over it to keep it from falling.

Eventually Inanna wondered if there was any connection between the patterns, the colors, and their locations, and so she acquired thin wooden slabs to take notes upon, an act which did not go unnoticed by other villagers. Rumors began to spread that the fever had an effect on her which caused her odd behavior, which ultimately wasn't wrong, and she didn't know how to explain it in a way that didn't reinforce them. So in the end she didn't, and over the next two years she watched the signs in the world, both from the gods and from the other villagers, the latter more clear in their intent as they gradually began interacting with her no more than they needed to.

*****

The sun was beginning to set as Inanna completed another day of study near the Pillar. It was so far around that a person could walk from dawn to dusk, and back to dawn again and still not be where they began - an immeasurable amount of surface to check for notes, but the small section was more than sufficient.

A blue-framed note blinked into existence to her side, and Inanna walked over for a closer look. She had a modest understanding of what the markings meant, or at least she hoped she did; there was nothing but context to go off of, and for all she knew the daemons were looking at something else entirely that she couldn't see. This one, for example, had parts of "movement," "growth," or "change;" "merge" or "touch;" something else she only saw on plants; "road" or "rope"; and another bit of writing altogether unique. According to her notes the last one only appeared on the Pillar and, if the location of the unique rock jutting from the ground nearby was any indication, only in this area.

"Is there something here...?" she thought aloud to herself. She pressed her hands against the smooth surface, feeling around in the vicinity of the sign. The Pillar was solid, composed of neither stone nor metal, or at least none that any of her people had seen. It resisted the elements, scratches, and cuts, but as she moved her hand to the side a mere finger's span it suddenly and effortlessly sank in up to her wrist.

Inanna froze, fighting her initial impulse to draw her limb back out for fear of losing the spot. There was apprehension at the discovery that a solid and permanent fixture of her world was far from solid, awe at how it could simply give way, but above all excitement that she was able to learn and understand, on some level, the language of daemons, if not the gods themselves. Feeling the Pillar near her hand with the other she managed to get it sunk in as well, both moving through it as easily as water. Though the surface didn't move or ripple, and it wasn't warm or cold or wet, simply a slight pressure against her palms and fingers.

She looked back over her shoulder from whence she came, towards her village. They showed an almost universal gentle politeness born out of pity or fear for her, the odd one with tablets of senseless markings. In front of her lay something else, created by the gods and maintained in their absence, but with no sign of how long it would last. So, after a moment of deliberation, she held her breath, closed her eyes, and stepped through.

It was lukewarm and stifling, the pressure coming from all around, but not enough that she couldn't walk with some effort. Her gown tore down the front, the cloth being simultaneously pulled as a whole while the strands were compressed; in an odd sort of exchange Inanna felt something else close in, not the fabric she knew but something like it, covering her feet and shins before moving upward. Seconds later when she emerged, the white gown had been altered into a short-cropped bolero jacket, the hems dyed the color of metal, beneath which was... something. It was black, and covering her from the neck down, leaving only her head and forearms exposed. She assumed it was cloth, yet it had an impossibly small, tight weave that she had never seen a linen pod produce. It also perfectly matched her body even as it moved, but it didn't feel clingy or confining, just... strange. Whatever it was, despite being so thin she didn't feel cold.

Around her lay a wide room of the same material as the Pillar, roughly semicircular with a high ceiling, dimly lit with no visible source. Etched into the walls were angled patterns and recesses, some filled with the luminous signs which led her to this point, only far larger and numerous. Stretching away from her were tunnels with rough arches, with no curved surfaces to be seen. Inanna took a few hesitant steps forward, wondering if it was as empty as it felt, and she froze when she found her answer.

It was - or looked like - a petite-figured young woman, her hair wavy and a shade of deep, vivid blue that Inanna had only seen on the signs. Her clothing was no more than a sash around the waist and a form-fitting suit in more muted yet similar hues. It covered all but her hands, head, and toes, but as she slowly turned Inanna could see that the front parted down to her navel in a narrow V-shaped cut. Inanna expected her to notice that she was there, but she simply turned in place with a blank expression on her oval-shaped face, staring through her and everything else with unblinking eyes a deep blue of the glowing-without-glow color. As she slowly turned, Inanna realized that her movements were too smooth, each step in place identical to the previous, and every time she did a part of her would appear to separate into small cubes the size of berries, trailing behind her like the haze Inanna had seen after consuming fermented fruits, before coming together again as if it had never happened.

Inanna carefully approached when the figure's back was turned, gingerly putting her hand on her shoulder. As she did the figure stiffened before separating into small cubes once more, starting from her shoulder and spreading to the rest of her body as she slid back towards, and into, Inanna. A tingle ran down her arm as she slipped into the same space as her, followed by a similar sensation as Inanna's chest touched her back. As the figure's head pressed into and through Inanna's, everything went black, and she was suddenly aware of something solid and altogether distinct pressing into the back of her body. Clothing crept across her skin, but she wasn't sure which was the material shifting and which was her body moving beneath it.

She blinked, her vision suddenly returning as memories flodded her mind. She remembered that she had to get help. Something had gone wrong, of course, because she was cut off. But she could see the ones who cut her off, only she couldn't because she couldn't see at all. But... no, this began because she -started- seeing something. Some signs or markings left in the world. There was an overwhelming sense of anxiety and confusion at the thought of how long it took for her to read what she had written. No one else knew she was there, except they -did-, and they gradually ignored her. They didn't see her, which is why she sent a call for help, but when she saw them they stopped seeing her, so when they didn't see her she-

"No," she said aloud. Her voice sounded different; she didn't remember speaking before. "No, I'm..." Her thoughts were a jumble, but at least she knew her name; it was either Inanna or Vretild. Both of them sounded right, but it was the first time hearing one of them.

Moving forward on unsteady feet she tried to remember if she had been here or not. She passed by a section of wall polished to a reflective sheen, and paused to look herself over. She didn't look like what she remembered: Long, dark, wavy hair streaked with blue framed a face with pale blue eyes, and a figure clad in a short-sleeved bodysuit with stirrup legwear, worn open in the front, with a sash and vest; all in blue and black with traces of white. She found herself focusing on the vest and sash, recognizing that they didn't go together but trying to associate them with her names. The vest was something else, hers, Inanna's-

The memories seemed to part, Inanna's own becoming more clear. At the same time she was suddenly aware of another presence, deliberately setting itself apart from her, just as she did to the presence. Inanna felt that she was trying to talk, so she relaxed, and something settled in at the back of her mind, speaking words she wasn't privy to. "You found my messages." There was awe and relief in her voice. "None of the other daemons in the area acknowledged them."

The presence relented, and Inanna spoke. "You're a daemon?"

"Yes. Are you with the caretakers?" She peered at herself in the mirror. "No. No, you couldn't be. How did you enter?"

"I started seeing messages after I came in contact with something from the gods," she confessed. "One of them on the Pillar told me how to get in here."

"If you didn't enter for me, then why?" Her expression looked almost disappointed.

"I had to know." A second later Inanna added, "about the gods."

"Why?"

"Because... they might be dead."


	2. Chapter 2

"Because... the gods might be dead."

Inanna watched her reflection, a blend of features, colors, and clothing that were only partially hers. Her expression was blank as her eyes turned downward in thought, pondering something she had no means of knowing. "Perhaps you should start at the beginning," she finally said. "When did you start seeing the logs?" She shook her head slightly. "The messages, that is."

"It over two years ago," Inanna replied. "I came in contact with something from the heavens. I was feverish for a week, and nearly died from it. When I woke up, they started appearing."

After a few more seconds of thought she muttered, "yes... yes, that might be possible."

"Do you know who sent it?"

There was a sudden pang of sadness in her chest. "No. I've been cut off for..." She briefly looked worried. "...a while. Whatever happened to you made you a makeshift interface. It's the only reason I'm able to see anything around me, much less communicate with you." She gestured to her reflection. "Such as it is."

Inanna mulled over the word "interface," trying to figure out what she meant. She went to speak, and all at once there was a surge of thoughts jumbled together, ideas and concepts interconnected but utterly unfamiliar to her with no frame of reference. She knew all of it was reasonable and navigating it was second nature, and she floundered in its darkness, like a fish drowning in a sea it had lived in its entire life.

When she spoke again, it wasn't her talking. "What's an in-" She squeezed her eyes shut and shook her head. The sea of ideas parted, leaving Inanna to her own knowledge. "No, those are your thoughts, aren't they."

"What's an interface?" Inanna asked.

"It lets a daemon-" She paused, before speaking more carefully. "It lets them interact with the physical world. Normally they're in the spiritual world, which your... people can't see. We make sure everything is in order, but we can't, for example, throw rocks around."

"Do interfaces work like this?"

"Not exactly." She was aware of her own nervousness, and the fact that to an outsider she was having an animated conversation with herself. "I'm assuming that this is not something your people had any knowledge of."

Inanna shook her head. "There wasn't anything in the stories about this. Or of daemons needing rescue."

"Sometimes things happen to them and they... need to be reminded of what to do. There should have been measures in place to ensure I could still fulfill my role, but when you mentioned that 'the gods might be dead,' the thought came to me that there was a reason nobody came. We both want to know the same thing, and this is the chance both of us needed."

"So you'll help?"

She nodded. "Though my- our situation isn't optimal, being combined like this. There is a solution, and while I don't have full knowledge of the 'pillar,' I do know how to reach it from here." Inanna felt her body turn away from her reflection, and she reflexively moved to keep her balance; her body in turn moved to her accord, reacting to her reaction, and in the end she awkwardly fell to her hands and knees. "Oh. That's not good." The presence in Inanna's mind drew away, and she stood. "A name came up... Inanna, was it?"

She nodded. "I think I know yours, too. You're Vretild."

"That's correct. I'm not used to walking, but if you'd let me, I can guide us where we need to go. Just make sure you don't focus on moving."

"...how?"

"Perhaps you could tell me your people's tales of how this world got its start?"

Inanna took a moment to compose her thoughts before speaking. "It began with emptiness, neither light nor dark..." Her thoughts went to the words she had read so many times before, and as they did, her body took a step, then another. She spoke of the twins from whom all the gods were created, how they gave up their bodies to form the heavens and the land for their children, and the four brothers who held the two apart for a year and the day as the Pillar was constructed. All the while she moved without thinking, passing through sprawling geometry lit with colors of unusual intensity and up irregular slopes which lead to oddly-shaped rooms, and those into staircases which looked out of place with how unerringly regular and identical they were by comparison. She had lost herself in thought when walking before, but never to the point where she felt so disconnected from her own body or movement. But then, it wasn't her walking right now, it was her - Vretild, she corrected herself.

She was taken out of her fugue when she heard Vretild say, "we're here," finding herself in a room far different from the others. It was distinctly rectangular, possibly the first normal-shaped room she had seen since she entered, with one wall taken up with metal structures whose regular angles looked to be of careful measure. There were windows in some of them, covered by clear stone, looking into rough-textured, banded metal. The most notable feature was the -lack- of signs, the only ones being a wide rectangle in near-black shades of blue and purple, with a smaller one beneath it filled with irregular rows of marked squares.

As Inanna looked around she approached the structures, arms moving of not her own accord. Her hands poised above the lower rectangle, lightly tapping the squares seemingly at random; at first she thought it was a musical instrument of some sort, but the utter silence proved that idea wrong. It had to have been doing something, however, because the sign above it reacted, markings moving too fast for her to read. Some time later she stopped as part of the wall unfolded in irregular triangles, revealing a person-sized room with intricate metal bands around the interior. "Step in there," she said.

Inanna took a half-step, feeling Vretild mentally move away before she walked forward and entered. "What happens next?"

"For this part you will be sedated."

She was about to ask what "sedated" meant but suddenly found her tongue incredibly heavy, only managing a "whuh" before deciding to take a nap.

*****

Inanna woke on a comfortable cot in another room, after the most restful sleep she had experienced in recent memory. Vretild was standing nearby, looking far more aware of her surroundings than before; a glance down at herself revealed that her body and clothing were, if not normal, then at least as they were when she entered the Pillar. "Was that it?" Inanna asked, sitting up.

"Yes," Vretild stated. "I should say, however, that yours was a very unusual situation."

"Is something wrong?"

"No, just... different." She briefly grew pensive. "If I might try something out first."

She nodded, and Vretild moved behind Inanna, not by walking but by hovering, legs trailing behind her as she floated a hands' width from the ground. See touched Inanna's shoulders, her hands sliding down her arms until they were back-to-front, and Inanna felt a tingle that began in her back and at Vretild's touch. It spread as Vretild's body separated into small cubes once more, being absorbed into Inanna; at the same time she watched as her clothing and body transitioned from one form and look to the other, hair turning wavier and blue-streaked, and clothing gaining a sash while retracting elsewhere. Her memories remained her own, with none of Vretild's spilling into them, but despite this her thoughts -felt- different. She was curious about the change, but there was a probing need to know that nudged her to action, wanting to learn about it to connect it to ideas of "how" and "why" that she couldn't recall. There was also a newfound sense of familiarity to her surroundings, like returning to a place you hadn't been to in years.

There was something like an insistent tapping in the back of Inanna's mind, and she relaxed; as she did she felt Vretild come to the fore, turning her hands to and fro as she inspected herself, quietly murmuring. "Superficially, there's nothing glaringly wrong or unstable... but by all rights..."

"What's going on?" Inanna asked.

"To be blunt, interfaces do not physically change, nor are daemons able to control them."

"So, the object from the gods had some other power which made this happen?"

"I can only assume." A sign flickered into existence beside her, mostly in oranges and yellows and dense with rapidly-moving text. Inanna tried to read it, catching a few familiar symbols here and there but not enough to fully understand it. She felt a sudden tension from Vretild, however, which spoke volumes. "I'm seeing... something. It's a collected set of values, for..." She trailed off long enough for Inanna to think she dropped the subject, catching her off-guard when she spoke again. "Is this you? The dates match up to your claims of when you found the object, but there's something at work here that I haven't seen in use. Direct access to attribute blocks shouldn't be permitted at all for metazoics. Even metaphytic access is limited to purely corrective measures in case the template-"

Inanna lightly bit her tongue, interrupting Vretild more by physically stopping her than causing pain. "What does all that mean?"

"Hold on." Vretild continued to read the sign until it disappeared a few seconds later. "Well," she sighed, choosing her words carefully. "Daemons can't tamper with the work of the gods. The gods created everything, but we don't have the power to change it - so we can't, for example, give trees the ability to talk or give your people wings. But with you being my interface, and the strange circumstances behind it, it causes some things about you to be... well, able to be changed."

"It's not because I -stole- power from the gods," she asked, concerned, "is it?"

"No! No. It was always present, just not usable. Though maybe if I..." A second later a thought forced its way to the fore of Inanna's mind: A line of simple, contrasting shapes. "Alright, there's a visual indication now, but it's not calibrated. So what if I did...?" Her voice raised from a mumble to a normal volume. "Something might happen, Inanna. I'm not certain what, but get ready."

Inanna nodded, and a second later there was a there was a sudden shock, as if every muscle in Inanna's body was stretching at once. As it happened the room seemed to shrink around her as her line of sight shot upward a head or two. She let out a yelp, scooting backwards on the cot; what once held her comfortably would now leave her lower legs hanging off. "What-" she sputtered. "What?! Did... did you do that?"

"Yes. Do you see any shapes in your thoughts?"

She nodded again, tucking her legs in and kneeling on the cot. "One of them looks larger than before."

"I want you to try and focus on one of the other shapes. Concentrate on making it larger."

"You mean like-" Without warning Inanna's breasts swelled dramatically, parting the material as they surged out of the front of her bodysuit. In a fraction of a second they were a size that would have put her village's melons to shame, the momentum of their forceful growth pulling her forward and depositing her face-first in her own cleavage as they fell to the cot. She pushed herself up on her elbows, boggling at the sudden additions before pressing one hand gingerly into her breast; despite their size and weight their was a surprising softness and yield to them. Taking the other in the other hand she gave them both a gentle squeeze. "I was told that something like this happened when women were with child," Inanna said, "but to be at -this- size..."

Her brow suddenly furrowed in worry. "There might be other values that this altered," Vretild said. As both her thumbs and forefingers slipped around her nipples she felt them stiffen. Wide-eyed, she asked, "should it normally feel like this?"

"Mmm." Inanna moved her elbows off the cot and rested one head on the pillow of her boob, her backside left in the air. "But it's... nnn, more than normal." As she worked her breasts she added breathily, "there's other shapes too. I'm going to concentrate on another one and see what happens."

"Perhaps you should wa-" Vretild's train of thought was cut off as her ass surged outward, her voice coming out as a combination of a squeak and a moan that she didn't think Inanna's race was even capable of making. She pressed her mouth into the soft skin of her breast as it grew in pulses, at first reaching her breasts in size, then exceeding them, growing into a round, jiggling wall of fat that spanned the width of the cot and spilled partway over the size. The material of her outfit stretched rapidly to contain her, but not fast enough to prevent a series of pronounced, drawn-out strokes against her sex. She clamped her legs shut as -something- happened to Inanna's body, a twitching and spasming as everything went hazy - completely foreign but utterly pleasurable.

With a series of quiet grunts Inanna moved one hand between her legs and worked it underneath her outfit, letting out a pleased sound as she slipped two fingers inside of herself. Everything had a weight and softness to it, wobbling and shaking as she moved, rubbing against the cot and herself as her erogenous zones were enlarged and somehow magnified in sensitivity. It was not normal by any means, but if the gods meant it to be possible in some way, it surely couldn't be bad.

However strange it was for Inanna, it was even stranger for Vretild. Inanna had taken charge, leaving Vretild as a passenger in their shared body, feeling her hands moving across her figure out of her own control, coaxing reactions out of her that she wasn't expecting or experienced before. The most she could manage was the occasional interjection, her thoughts muddled by an absolute bombardment of intense physiological and chemical reactions flooding her mind, and she was unsure of whether to think of it as self-love or being pleasured by another.

As Inanna's touch set her trembling and Vretild bit back another cry, she understood why some of her kind pursued this so fervently. It was good that their bodies eventually tired of it, or else they would get nothing accomplished.


	3. Chapter 3

After a short rest Inanna and Vretild were able to separate without incident, and they resumed their journey through the Pillar. The daemon guided Inanna, floating gently above the floor as they headed up stairs and through irregularly-shaped rooms; from what Inanna could tell, she was focused on remembering the correct path, not really aware that Vretild was deliberately trying to avoid eye contact. In fact, the first time she did look her in the eyes after they separated was when Inanna's stomach growled loudly.

"I didn't bring any food with me," Inanna offered apologetically.

"That is a problem," Vretild replied. Her brow furrowed in thought for a few seconds. "If I'm remembering correctly, there are regular agronom- orchards on the way up. However, there is a possibility that the plants aren't fruit-bearing."

"Even if there's just trees, some of them might have edible bark."

"Hopefully it won't come to that."

If Vretild had made a change to the path they were to take she didn't show it, with Inanna trailing behind her as they moved through rooms whose purpose she couldn't begin to guess. The scattered signs and notes revealed little, with the few symbols she could understand buried between ones she didn't. Eventually the way forward was marked out by a -lack- of the bright messages, as in one larger chamber part of a bare wall unfolded and slid away, revealing a small, roughly circular chamber composed of angled, straight walls. Vretild entered and Inanna took it as a cue to follow, watching as Vretild turned to face the opening as it closed once more. They stood there in silence for a moment as Vretild cast her eyes upward expectantly, and when the wall opened again Inanna turned to look and did a double take, finding that the room had changed entirely. As she peered around cautiously Vretild hovered past, gesturing for her to follow, and after some hesitation she did, following her to the far side of the chamber. The wall in front of them unfolded, higher and wider than even the largest of Inanna's village huts, and she stared in awe at what lay beyond.

In stark contrast to the rest of the Pillar's interior, the room was lush and verdant, overgrown to the point where layers of peat, roots, and vines obscured the floor. Straight rows of trees and high bushes extended into the distance and in either direction, branches and trunks covered in all manner of fruits and smaller plants and fungi. The canopy above was high and dense, with light filtering through the leaves from some point beyond, and the only reasons Inanna knew it was still inside was due to the stillness and taste of the air, and the color of the light.

"This is..." Inanna began. "This is all old. The trees have been here for generations."

"Yes," Vretild said quietly, "but they shouldn't be. Things have gotten out of hand."

"Do you think the daemons here ended up like you?"

"I don't doubt that they did."

As she said that a young woman - or something resembling one - stepped into view in the distance. She wore a long coat and shorts, with a tight top that stopped just below her breasts. It was all painted a deep crimson, the same shade as her high, full ponytail and her too-focused eyes. Inanna watched as she moved with unerring regularity, stopping beside the trunks of trees in turn. Signs would blink into existence for a second or two, disappearing as she made tapping motions against the space they occupied, heedless of the futility of it. Every time she turned, she could see that her midsection was left agape, rectangular cuts bordering a lightless void where her stomach would be.

Inanna hurried ahead, approaching the young woman. She looked in Inanna's direction more than once yet nothing of her movement or actions indicated she saw her, and when Inanna asked, "you're a daemon, right?" she didn't look up from her tapping on empty air. When she moved again she stepped out of her way, standing behind her as she went through the motions. Looking at Vretild she raised one hand towards the red daemon's shoulder. "Should I do what I did to you?"

Vretild nodded. "She'll be stuck like this if we don't."

Inanna took a breath to steady her nerves before reaching out for her. The air suddenly felt like a coming thunderstorm, and as her finger touched the daemon the figure froze, a black line running down her spine and up the back of her head before several more went to either side, splitting her body into wide ribbons that exploded open into a too-dark interior. Before Inanna could react the mass engulfed her like a cocoon, plunging her into darkness. There was the confusing sensation of every part of her body touching -itself-, like a copy of her skin was turned inside-out and put over her, which gave way to something melting against her skin. She squeezed her eyes shut, opening them to discover that she could see once more, and finding that her clothing had been replaced with shorts, a waist cape, and cropped top in red and black, her dark hair turning red as it neared the tips.

But more importantly finding that -her- garden had become -this-.

Anger welled up within her, a smothering indignation that crowded Inanna out as she turned to Vretild, forelocks swinging from the sudden motion. "What. -Happened.- To my department?"

"Artiod-" Vretild began.

"You're part of monitoring! It's your -duty- to identify loop degradation so this-" Artiod made a violent, sweeping gesture with one arm to the room. "-doesn't happen!"

"It happened to me as well, Artiod. It was only by coming in contact with an interface that I was able to come this far."

Artiod paused, purple eyes turning in either direction as she took in the chamber again. There was a sense of unease at her anger, and she was suddenly aware that, despite the near-instinctual knowledge of her duties, there was a part of her where even the most basic of ideas and terminology were empty words and sounds. She looked down at her hands, turning them over as if noticing them for the first time. "This isn't a normal interface." Her eyes widened. "Did you let an ex-situ race in?!"

"Her name is Inanna," Vretild said carefully, "and she found a way in on her own. She... came in contact with something sent by the gods, and it let her see some of the messages-"

"They're logs," she snapped, "and what do you mean 'sent by the gods?' Surely -you're- smart enough to know-"

"Stop." Artiod folded her arms across her chest, and Vretild continued. "If you had to explain what you did here to something which didn't understand the terminology, what would you do?"

"I wouldn't; if they didn't know, then there would be no reason for it because it wasn't relevant."

"But if you had to."

"If I had to," she repeated, "then I would put it in language they could understand." A second later she muttered, "oh. Right." She pondered that, trying to make sense of what she was referring to. There was a mutual annoyance at the idea that she couldn't follow what she was thinking, though Artiod was the only one who felt relief at that.

"As I was saying," Vretild continued, "through the tales of her people, Inanna thinks the gods might be dead, which explains what happened to you."

"So you're attempting to discover the fate of 'the gods' because something has gone wrong." Artiod fell into silence before relaxing, her body's movements no longer being purely of her own accord. "I should apologize for my behavior... Inanna, was it? The entirety of my thoughts were on my work, to the point where I couldn't even think, if that makes sense. Being roused and finding out how much had changed came as a shock."

"I guess I can understand," Inanna replied. It wasn't until she spoke that she realized how much sharper her teeth felt in her mouth.

"If you're serving as my interface then a proper introduction is in order: My name is Artiod, and I was one of the daemons who helped create and grow the plants outside."

"What you did was amazing," she said. "Our home is beautiful."

"Oh. Ah, th- thank you." Artiod was suddenly taken aback when her stomach growled again, glancing around before looking down at herself. "What is that? There's this gnawing sensation in my abdomen, and my body feels weak."

"I'm hungry. Vretild and I came this way because we hoped that there'd be something edible here." Inanna reached out for a large, vibrantly-colored oval fruit, plucking it from its branch with both hands. "Like this, right? This looks very familiar to what we harvest."

Before Artiod could respond Inanna bit into the fruit, teeth easily sinking through the skin and into the pulp, and she was suddenly struck dumb as something juicy and sweet and utterly alien filled her mouth. As Inanna chewed there was a crunching that she could both feel and hear as she crushed it in her jaws; even though this was the first time she had ever eaten, the flavor was sharper and more intense than what she survived on outside the Pillar. By the time she realized that -this- wonder was the sum product of her work, it was gone, leaving her with empty, glove-covered hands. "That's it?" Artiod looked up at the other fruits on the tree, then around her at the rows of plants extending past. "Why did you stop?"

"I don't need to eat -that- much," Inanna said.

"Yes." There was a note of impatience in her response. "However. If you're able to experience that at will, why -would- you stop?"

It was then that Inanna noticed another line of shapes in her mind, different from when she was merged with Vretild. As she focused on them they turned and shifted, and she said under her breath, "I might not need to."

"Did you say something?" The gnawing returned, stronger than before, and Artiod ripped a fruit free before ravenously consuming it, barely pausing to swallow before reaching for a second, then eating it just as quickly. Inanna held back, letting Artiod move freely and satisfy her newfound urge; as she did, Inanna became aware of a paunch gradually growing over the front of her shorts with each mouthful. When she had a second or two to spare Inanna ran a hand across her belly, testing its weight and firmness before going back to gorging herself.

Vretild watched as she moved to the other row of plants, twisting a gourd free before biting into it, moaning through a mouthful of rind and flesh. "Inanna, are you..." She paused, searching for the right words. "...in danger?"

She shook her head. "I ffingg-" Inanna said, pausing as Artiod took a bite. "-Arteeod iff fee'ing-" Another bite. "-li' yuu di' affor."

She nodded slowly. "Oh. I see."

By the time Artiod moved once more, now shoving yellow berries into her mouth, her stomach hung dramatically from her frame, beyond even the most gravid pregnancy that Inanna had seen. It swayed as Artiod moved between plants, a near-constant gurgling and churning emanating from it as she digested food nearly as fast as she ate it. Even then she succumbed to brief moments of overstuffed tightness, forcing her to either impatiently pause or have Inanna thump one hand against her side until a loud belch rumbled forth.

The outcome of her binging gradually became apparent to Inanna and Vretild, but not immediately so. It was noticed in comparisons that seemed different only a minute or two prior: Larger love handles, more wobble to her arms, fatter fingers, a belly that looked and felt softer despite being perpetually stuffed with food. The weight of her body was multiplying, taking on a shape Inanna had never seen in another person, something wider and rounder and heavier - distinctly so, as the weight that was packed upon her seemed to continue moving of its own accord whenever she stopped. From what she could tell, Artiod was aware of the changes as well, not only eager to eat but to see what eating would do. Despite her fascination, Inanna noted that she was increasingly frustrated by her gradual reduction in mobility, the fat preventing her from reaching more and more things to eat. It was only when she nearly toppled forward in a desperate grab for more edible fungus that Vretild and Inanna intervened, the latter taking control as the former zipped forward and pushed into her pliable, smothering front, grunting from the effort of keeping her standing.

"That's enough for now," Inanna said. Even her face felt heavy.

"Why did you stop me?" Artiod peevishly asked.

"We only stopped here to eat."

"Yes," she said, taking a step back. "We've established that." Her feet were half-covered by cankles, wide shins flaring outward to dimpled knees before thickening again into conical trunks, meeting in a backside quite literally large enough to use as a bed, her shorts and waistcape stretched to impossible limits. Hanging in front was an equally massive gut, the soft fold in the middle belying a gargantuan capacity that Artiod had not willingly given up on testing. Her arms and breasts were smaller by comparison, but this was not to say that they were -small-; indeed, if her ass was a bed, the rolls of fat hanging from her arms and the two head-smothering mounds resting atop her belly would be the pillows. Atop it all was a face with bulging cheeks and a double chin, ensconced in a ring of fat that utterly buried her neck. Most astounding of all, at least to Vretild, was that Artiod didn't believe that she was -done- yet.

"But I can't keep moving if you keep eating," Inanna pointed out. "Otherwise I'd get to the point where I couldn't stand up if I fell down."

"Such an idiotic design," Artiod growled. "Capable of immobilizing themselves through normal activity." Calming herself, she added, "though you did humor me, and I'm not ungrateful." Vretild gestured to Artiod as she hovered ahead, and she followed with a plodding gait, heavy steps that audibly thumped against the floor and caused her body to shudder and jiggle the entire time she was in motion. Her arms were at an angle at her sides; frowning, she raised them, resting them bent on the shelf of her belly with her hands atop her breasts.

"But," Inanna began, "if there was this much to eat all the time, why would anyone turn against the gods?"

"Speaking of which," Vretild said, "how -did- the story go?"

She thought for a moment, remembering something for the first time that she knew by heart. "The gods watched over their creations," Inanna recited, "ensuring the sun rose and fell and the oceans flowed. But some of the people grew angry. 'Look at how we live compared to the gods,' they said. 'We grow sick and die where they are ageless. We live in dirt while they live in the heavens. They deliberately created a world in which we suffer and exist only to worship them, so who can say that the gods are anything but evil? We can create a perfect world ourselves with their power.'"

"So then they waged war on the heavens and killed the gods?"

"Yes."

"You said the gods were ageless, but they could still be killed?"

"How long do you think some of these trees can live?" Artiod gestured with one fat arm to the room around them. "Yet they can die all too easily."

Vretild nodded to herself, contemplating what was said. They walked - or floated - in silence for a bit before she spoke again. "Inanna, what do -you- think it means?"

Her confusion was mirrored in her feelings as well, her thoughts parting when she gave her answer. "It's our history. It's what happened."

"What about you, Artiod?"

"If creating something imperfect makes you 'evil,'" Artiod replied, "then I accept the title. Though not because I was trying to earn it. Trying to create a fruit-bearing plant which can survive under any possible condition - any change in the amount of light or water, living in extreme heat or cold - is..." More odd terminology filled her thoughts.

"Impossible?" Inanna offered.

"My pride doesn't want to say that, but yes." As they neared a section of wall it unfolded to reveal another familiar circular chamber, with Vretild entering ahead of her. "It's cold comfort to think that I'm not alone in that regard. The amount of smaller, 'perfect' components needed to create a singular perfect world would take-"

She went to enter the chamber but only made it partway before she felt the hard frame of the door push back against her sides. There was a moment of mutual stunned shock before her thoughts parted, one line of thinking going inward and wondering just how large she really was, with the other focusing outward and redoubling her efforts to squeeze through. Gripping the frame she pushed on it as hard as she could, making a few small bits of progress until, with a grunt, she finally slipped through, fat filling the room and pinning Vretild against the wall in a near-smothering tide of lard.

"...Vretild," Artiod began, "you would know. Inanna's physiology is currently affecting me, somehow. Something consciousness-altering, and I know for certain it wasn't caused by anything -I- was responsible for creating."

"Inanna," Vretild replied, "is she feeling like we did?" Inanna nodded. "How are you doing?"

"It feels strange," Inanna added, pressing her fingers into what she could reach of her belly. "But in a good way. Everything is... soft." Inanna felt Vretild shift beneath her, and asked, "are you alright?"

"I've been better."


End file.
